


The Motion of the Stars

by sunalso



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: 17th Century, Alternate Universe - Historical, F/M, Jemma Simmons Has No Chill, Marvel Fluff Bingo 2019, Promptober, Stargazing, Witch (kind of) Jemma Simmons, side-laced dresses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-26
Updated: 2019-10-26
Packaged: 2021-01-03 11:03:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21178361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunalso/pseuds/sunalso
Summary: AU. Jemma is quite fine being called a witch and left alone in her cottage, but Fitz needs a night's worth of celestial observations and is determined to get them, even at the risk of being hexed.





	The Motion of the Stars

Jemma enjoyed being a witch. The skill needed to concoct medicine—the townsfolk called them potions—kept her constantly busy perfecting her recipes. A big black cat was always about, and, most importantly, people left her alone. Especially as All Hallows Eve approached. There’d been a few people that day, mostly women seeking treatments for problems no man would bother with, but they always came during bright daylight.

So the knock on the door well after dark surprised her.

She debated whether or not to open it. Living so near the border with Scotland could mean she’d find a raiding party on the other side, and she was too tired for hexing at the moment. But the knock did sound ever so polite.

Rising from her spot by the hearth, Jemma tucked her hair behind her ears and opened her front door, letting in a chill wind that made her shiver. The figure on her doorstep was indeed Scottish, judging from the way the cold didn’t seem to affect him. He stood wrapped in a kilt and a loose linen shirt and looked vaguely familiar with his slightly curled light brown hair and scruff.

“Hello,” he said, the corner of his mouth twitching up.

“And you are?” Jemma didn’t want to do any favors for a man who showed up unannounced. Even if he had a nice smile. A lot of girls got into trouble Jemma had to fix because of a boy smiling.

The man shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Leo Fitz. Call me Fitz.”

“Ah, the Laird’s son.” Just what she did not need. She had tea brewing over the fire. “What could you possibly want? Poison to speed your taking over for your father? A love potion? Some trollop not lifting her skirts for you?” Though she couldn’t imagine any woman with eyes not wanting to be wrapped around him.

“Uh—”

“I don’t brew such things. Off with you.”

She started to close the door, but his hand caught it. “Can I at least speak?”

“Fine.” She opened the door again, but he didn’t say anything. “Well, hurry up.”

“I…I’m the Laird’s second son, not the first, and there’s not any…Miss Jemma, I was led to believe you might have some records of the night sky, as I was ill three weeks ago and missed a night of observations and I realized it’s irregular that I’m here with you when you’re alone but, well…everyone whispers that you’re a somewhat…unusual women and…do you?”

Jemma consciously closed her mouth. “Do come in.”

He followed her inside, his eyes darting from the herbs drying overhead to the cauldron over the fire.

“Are ye really a witch?” he asked in a hushed voice.

She crossed her arms and leaned her rear against her table. Fitz took up an absurdly large amount of room in her cottage. He eclipsed her awareness of anything else. She could even smell the clean scent of him, like wind blowing in off the heath.

“I’m called such,” she said. “Mostly, I help those who have no one else to turn to. But I should let you know if you try anything upon my person while you’re here, I will curse your cock to fall off.”

Fitz paled. “Uh, no. Just…do you watch the sky?”

“I do.” She kept track of the stars, as some herbs were best collected and some concoctions best brewed under certain heavenly configurations.

Fitz grinned. “And you write it down?”

“I do.”

“Please let me see.”

Jemma’s eyes ran up and down this Scot, who’d snuck across the border to ask a known witch for a night’s worth of observations. He didn’t look like the sort who fought in battle. He had no visible scars, and his long-fingered hands appeared soft, as if he wielded a pen and not a sword.

Her kind of man.

It’d been a while since she’d lain with anyone, the last being more than a year ago, some tinker’s son who’d been a disappointment. Too bad this little lordling had a kilt and not trousers on, it made it difficult to see whether or not he’d be worth the trouble.

“Please?” he repeated.

“I’ll need payment.”

His face fell. “I’ve got a few coppers on me, and I can get more. Though I want a quick glimpse first, to make sure you have what I need.”

“That’s fair. I’ll show you a page from a few nights earlier.”

His eyes, the color of a jay’s wing, lit up as he smiled. “I’d like that.”

“Have a seat.” She gestured at her desk, and Fitz hastily complied, which raised her estimation of him further. Interested in astronomy and willing to follow commands? Her pussy throbbed with all the delicious possibilities.

Pulling out several the pages of vellum with her observations, she leaned over Fitz so her breasts, framed by the neckline of her gown, pressed against his arm. His ears turned faintly pink as he stared at them for several long moments, but then his gaze dropped to the papers she’d laid in front of him.

“Jemma!” he exclaimed. “You’ve got…” he trailed off as his finger ran down the columns of figures. “How many days do you have this detailed information for?”

“The last four years.”

“God’s blood, is that the truth?” He looked like she’d given him a yuletide gift. Jemma put a finger on his cheek and tilted his face up towards her. A man who understood her endeavors? With a face like an angel? She’d been drinking her drafts to prevent a man’s seed from taking root even though she’d had little worry about, but the precautions now seemed very prudent.

“I enjoy the task. My reason to do such is practical, but I find going out each night, in the chill of winter or the warm embrace of spring, quite pleasant.”

“Aye, Miss. I enjoy it as well, and calculating the motions of the heavens is very stimulating. I’ve found I’m rather good at working out the placement of planets, enough that I’m able to predict with a high degree of accuracy their positions even after a day or two of clouds.” That information would greatly assist Jemma’s work, and it frustrated her that she didn’t know the math he was using. However, she kept the lines of her face smooth. No need to give herself away like that.

“My observations are more detailed than your own?” She pressed her breasts to his arm again. Entirely to remind him they existed, not because it felt good to do so.

“You’re tracking more heavenly bodies than I am, and have angles with the moon and Venus. Brilliant work.”

A warm glow filled Jemma’s middle that was completely different than the other heat nipping at her. A quick roll in the hay, while still much desired, wouldn’t scratch her itch when it came to this man at all. She wanted more. More time. More talking.

It was a novel feeling, wanting to be around another person.

She still really wanted the roll in the hay.

“What’s your price, Miss Jemma? I’ve got quite a bit of gold I can bring.” His gaze caught on her breasts again before returning to the papers.

“I won’t give them to you. You’ll have to come and copy them out. It’ll be a fair bit of work.”

He traced a finger over the paper. “Weeks, or months. It’s a good thing you have such a snug cottage. I’ll be riding through the frost to get here. It gets colder than a witch’s—” he cut himself off. “Name your price.”

“Who says I want gold?”

He frowned and turned in the chair to face her. “What you want, then? Horseflesh? Rare herbs?”

Jemma tilted her head. “I have something much more pleasurable in mind.” She purred the words and put a hand on her hip.

A line formed between Fitz’s brows. “Do you want…pastries?” Jemma wondered if he was much stupider than he looked.

“Sex, Fitz. I want sex.”

“With who?”

Blast, this was getting ridiculous. “With you, of course.”

Fitz blinked a few times, then burst out laughing. “Nice try, Miss Jemma. You’ve had your fun. Now name your price.”

“Are you daft?” Goodness, the man wasn’t making sense. “Or am I that unattractive to you?”

“Oh, I’m the daft one?” He stood, hands balled into fists. “It’s you mocking me. Unattractive? You are the most sublime creature with a most beautiful mind. Nobody could keep exacting charts in such a neat hand without having a dazzling intellect. And there you stand, being absolutely perfect, and suggesting you’ll share your work for something that would hardly be a chore, but I’m me. Nobody wants me. Not my Da, who mostly ignores me, not a single lass in the village. I’m just that weird boy with his numbers and stars.”

“What?”

Fitz turned away from her. “My da wanted an alliance with a neighboring Laird. They married his daughter to my brother. My younger brother. I wasn’t even useful as a warm body. My da said I wouldn’t know what to do with a girl when I asked him why it wasn’t me.”

Jemma was aghast. Also frightfully glad he hadn’t been yoked into an arranged marriage. “But…you’re so handsome. Surely, someone…”

Fitz shook his head. “I’d be a disappointment to you, Miss Jemma. Give me another price.”

The floorboards squeaked under her feet as she approached him. He startled when she put her fingers on the back of his neck, his skin soft and warm. Jemma went from skin to linen shirt as she followed the sweep of his spine down his back. Fitz gasped. She pressed herself against him, her heartrate kicking up a notch. Fitz moaned quietly. “I think my mind is set.” She settled her palms low on his stomach. “You can copy my astronomical information, and I can show you exactly how desirable I find you.” The muscles under her fingers quivered. “Do we have a deal?”

“This seems rather one-sided in my favor,” he said.

“What if I promise I’ll find pleasure too? Though I suppose if you wish, you can simply write down what you’ve missed from that one day and be gone.” Jemma didn’t want Fitz to think he had to bed her. She’d meant the offer as a game, but it’d become something else. She desired not only the pleasure of his touch but also the pleasure of making him feel wanted.

“I want to…with you.”

“Then we have a deal?”

“Yes.” It came out a groan, the sound rumbling through his chest. Jemma felt it all the way down to her toes.

Jemma’s hand slipped lower until she could feel what her Scotsman had under his kilt. His cock pushed eagerly against her fingers, firm and thick. “Want to make your first payment now?”

“Please.”

Liquid, needy desire drenched her. They’d have months of this.

Fitz turned in her arms and pressed his mouth to hers. It was all teeth and mismatched angles for a second, but then he tilted his head and their lips molded together.

“Oh,” he breathed, and she slid her tongue into his mouth where there hint of whiskey clung to him. She sought it out every bit of it as his hands clutched at her hips. Fitz’s tongue hesitantly brushed hers, and she rolled hers around it, coaxing him. His hips jerked forward, and he moaned.

She wanted so many things with him, this sweet man who didn’t quite know what he was doing but wanted it very badly. Jemma pushed at him, directing him towards her bed until he sat down on the edge. The loss of his mouth on hers nearly had her climbing into the bed with him, but with him sitting, he was now at the perfect height.

“Jemma?” he asked, all wide eyes and swollen lips. His gaze followed her fingers as she undid the side lacings of her bodice. She pulled it off over her head, leaving her in only her chemise. Fitz’s chest rose and fell rapidly as he reached up, gently touched her neck, and then tugged at the front of her cover. It skimmed her sides as it floated down to pool at her feet. Her breasts felt heavy, and the nipples achy under Fitz’s gaze.

Fitz said something she didn’t understand and cupped both breasts in his warm palms. She mewled, and he grinned widely before smooshing his face to her tits, nuzzling and lapping at them. His mouth found a nipple. He made a happy sound as he drew it between his lips. Her fingers tangled in his hair, holding him in place, even though she was far from worried that he was about to stop.

****

Having the most perfect pair of tits in his face had not been what Fitz had been expecting when he’d snuck across the border to the home of a purported witch. He’d heard rumors of her, mostly jokingly as someone mocked his own interests, but he’d needed to fill in the blanks of the night he’d been too ill to record the star’s positions, and the desire to know had led him to her door.

His plans had all gone to hell the moment she’d opened the door. He’d barely been able to think as most of his blood had rushed south. Jemma had summarily judged and dismissed him, and he still wasn’t entirely sure how he’d ended up inside her cottage, looking at her neat rows of figures. Her work was impeccable.

Fitz was worried she might be touched in the head because she didn’t seem to understand nobody gave him a second glance. Instead, she believed he should have legions of women falling at his feet and that somehow sex with her was…payment?

Daft woman.

He’d never had a lack of interest, just little opportunity when everyone who knew him considered him odd and left him alone.

He hoped he didn’t disappoint Jemma. And that it’d take him years to copy her records.

“More,” she gasped, taking one of his hands off her breast and shoving it between her legs. He stared at his hand as she rocked against his fingers, making fantastic noises while she slicked him with her desire. He eventually convinced his fingers to move and explore the bounty presented to him. Touching her pearl made her moan. When he slid a finger inside her pussy, her the smooth walls clutched at him, and he frowned.

“Something wrong?” Jemma gasped, rolling her hips.

“Does intercourse always hurt a woman?” he asked, afraid of the answer. As strong as his desire was, and as much as his cock ached, he didn’t think he’d be able to go further if it would cause her distress.

Jemma’s forehead wrinkled, and she stopped her actions to put her hands on his shoulders. “If done right, it should never hurt a woman. It’s sweet of you to ask. But can I ask what made you think you’d harm me?”

He removed his hands from her, his eyes catching on how one gleamed in the firelight, wet from her body. “Well, er, I slid my finger…uh, inside, and you grasped it firmly and…well, how is my prick supposed to fit?”

Jemma’s brow shot upward. “I am so very glad you weren’t married off to some neighboring lord’s daughter.”

“Am I doing everything so wrongly?” His stomach dropped. “I learn easily. I promise if you show me the correct manner in which—”

“Fitz, stop. I mean I’m glad you’re not married because otherwise I wouldn’t be able to bed the most wonderful, charming, thoughtful man I’ve ever met.”

“Oh.” Well, that made him feel better. “I do feel I should warn you my cock is rather larger than my finger.”

She grinned and tugged at his shirt. “Let me see, and don’t worry. I promise your cock shall fit.”

Fitz appreciated her certainty as he pulled the shirt off. He dropped it to the floor, and immediately had an armful of delightfully warm Jemma. She straddled his legs and pushed him back. Her bed covers were soft and inviting as he sprawled on top of them. She remained with a knee on either side of his hips, her expression coy as she grabbed his kilt and drew the fabric up his thighs.

He had no idea what her reaction to his randy cock would be, but her determination to get a hold of it did inspire confidence. Fitz took the bunched-up fabric and hauled it all the way to his waist., leaving himself bare to her.

Jemma’s face lit up, and she made a sound of glee, which he hadn’t been expecting. Her cool fingers wrapped around his cock. He had to close his eyes as she stroked him and cooed.

“Is it satisfactory to you?” he asked.

Jemma didn’t say anything. He cracked an eye open to gage her expression, but it was just in time to see her lean down and engulf the head of his cock with her mouth. Pleasure shot through him, and he moaned loudly.

“All of you is very satisfactory,” she said when she removed her mouth from his prick.

“Is that a done thing, with mouths?”

“Yes, Fitz. And if you are lucky one of these nights, I’ll let you use your tongue on me.”

Burying his face between her legs was a potent thought, and his cock jerk at the imagined pleasure.

“It seems you like that idea,” she said, brushing her thumb over the head of his cock.

“Very much. Shall we move now, so you’re on your back?”

Her fingers tightened around his shaft as she stroked. “Whatever for?”

“That is how I have been told it’s done.” He hated the thought he might not be correctly informed.

“By who?”

“By my brothers, and even by the priest who tutored us.”

“I see the problem. Well, as a witch, I do not have to follow the words of a priest, and I think we shall remain as we are if you do not have any objections.”

“You’ll ride me like a horse?”

Jemma nodded. “And you’ll enjoy it.”

****

Jemma had understood he was innocent of sexual congress but hadn’t realized how innocent until he’d worried about fitting inside her.

She’d melted, utterly and completely, at his sweet concern. When she’d gotten his prick uncovered, she’d better understood why he might have had reservations. It was, in fact, larger than his finger. But she was so slick she doubted she’d have any difficulty.

Jemma caught his gaze as she positioned herself over his cock, the head at her entrance. Biting her lip, she pushed down onto him, her body stretching pleasurably around his.

Fitz’s hands trembled against her thighs as she took all of him in. “See?” she asked, her voice coming out breathless. “No problems.”

“Jemma!”

“Now pay attention. I’m about to teach you an important lesson. Look to where we’re joined.” Jemma followed his gaze as it roved downwards. It stuck on her chest for a few seconds, then went to where he was seated inside her. “Most women will not peak from a man slamming himself inside her. This small bit here—”

“Your pearl?” he asked eagerly.

“Yes, exactly. That will need attention. Completion for a woman can be achieved before or after the copulation, but don’t ever leave a woman unfulfilled if you want to bed her again.”

“What about you right now? Are you planning after?” His gaze narrowed, and his head tilted slightly, giving him a thoughtful air.

“As I am quite comfortable with my body, I will find mine during. My words are for future reference.” Jemma had learned early on not to rely on a man to provide her pleasure.

“Show me.”

She circled her clit while rocking on Fitz’s cock. He pushed himself slightly upright on his elbows, watching her with a great deal of concentration. After a few minutes, he lifted his hips to meet her downstrokes, making her mewl.

The pleasure was building steadily, her body tightening around his cock. Fitz shifted slightly, adjusting the angle of his cock, and Jemma moaned. He’d found the exact right spot inside her. “Like that,” she gasped, her body trembling. She had to use both hands to brace herself for long moments as she simply relished the prod of his cock inside her. Fitz ducked his head and considered his hands, then placed his fingertip over her clit, pressing and moving it like she’d shown him.

The slide of his rough finger catapulted her into bliss. His name fell from her lips as pleasure overwhelmed her. Her body pulsed around his cock, and she collapsed forward onto his chest.

Fitz rained kisses on her face. “Sweet Jemma…do you mind if I continue moving?”

“Please do.” She snuggled her face into his neck, sucking at the soft skin.

Fitz groaned as his hands boldly swept down her back to grab her arse. He thrust up into her, fast and hard, grunting from the effort. He lost his rhythm quickly, and she hung onto the quilt under him as he slammed hard a final time into her, his cock bucking with his release.

Beneath her, he went boneless with a sigh.

“Don’t fall asleep,” she said in his ear.

“Only for a little while?”

She chuckled and nipped his ear lobe. “No.”

“Why not?”

“Because I have yet to make tonight’s observations, and you should head back home soon.”

He shifted slightly so that he could turn his head to look at her. “Can I help with the stars?”

Her heart stuttered. “Always.”

****

The sweep of the night sky left Fitz breathless. It seemed so much more alluring with Jemma beside him. He was holding a lantern up and directing the light at the page Jemma was writing on.

He didn’t want to return to his cold room in his father’s castle. Not after discovering what it felt like to be tangled up with someone who you adored, and who looked at you the same way.

“Can you calculate Venus’ position for me?” Jemma asked, lifting her quill.

“I do believe she’s standing right in front of me.”

Jemma’s cheeks colored. “Fitz.” How she could be embarrassed after she’d shown him heaven, he had no idea, but he’d decided he’d never stop telling her how wonderful she was. Or trying to make her laugh.

He didn’t want the night ever to end, and the work of charting the sky went too fast. When it was done, and Jemma had scattered sand on the parchment, Fitz was forced to admit he must leave and retrieved his horse. He found he didn’t want to climb onto its back. Instead, he glared at the saddle.

“When will you return?” Jemma asked.

“Tomorrow.” Any longer and he’d perish of wanting her company.

She pushed up on her toes and kissed his cheek. “I don’t think I could wait any longer either.”

“I’ll bring the works I have on mathematics and show you what I’m doing. I think Keppler’s wrong on several accounts.”

“I would enjoy that immensely.” She pursed her lips. “How long do you think it’ll take to copy over the information you need from my records.”

“Well, I have to keep up with the current observations, and I wouldn’t insult you by being hasty with your numbers during copying. I think it might take me ten years or more, as a conservative estimate.”

Jemma’s sunny smile lit up her face. “I think at least two decades. You’ll want to double-check your work.”

“Most certainly.”

He stole a last kiss from her lips before mounting. “Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow.”

****

_Ten Years Later_

Autumn leaves blew about his ankles as Fitz sorted through the wares a fur trader had on display at the town's fall gathering. He was looking for one that would make Jemma a nice pair of gloves and one that would do as a wrap for their newest child. Winter was well on its way, and the babe would need the warmth. The nice thing about shopping on his father’s estate is that he could charge everything to his Da’s account. The blighter had never seemed to notice, and he’d bought Fitz’s family a lot of clothing and household implements over the years.

“Fitz,” his father bellowed from beside a stall selling ale. Fitz straightened his spine as his father stomped down the row of booths towards him. He’d prepared for this moment, but having the man’s full attention on him made Fitz feel like a wee child again. His father laid a hand on Fitz’s shoulder. “There’s a girl up north I was thinking might be a good match for you, her father—”

“I’m already married,” Fitz broke in. He’d known eventually his father would remember he was alive, beyond the few times a year the entire family gathered when Fitz dutifully showed up and left with pockets full of coin. With years of few words between him and his da, Fitz believed simple bluffing would work.

His father’s face scrunched up. “Ah, right. Any bairns yet?”

Fitz hid his smile. His father had no clue what Fitz was talking about but obviously didn’t want to admit that. Fitz doubted the man, or anyone else for that matter, even noticed Fitz was gone for weeks or months at a time. The castle had ceased to be his home the second he’d laid eyes on Jemma, and her cozy cabin had become where his heart and life now lay.

“Three. Two girls and a boy.”

“Ah, good for you, lad.” His father clapped his arm. “I told you all that reading and stargazing were worthless.”

“That you did.” Once Fitz would have argued and defended himself, especially because there was a decent possibility his three weans had been conceived while stargazing, but Fitz no longer cared what his father thought.

“That women has set you to rights. It’s good to see.”

“She has.” Fitz certainly couldn’t argue that statement, even though his father didn’t know the first thing about Jemma. His father patted his arm again before leaving, and Fitz returned to choosing furs.

He needed to decide quickly and return to his family. Jemma had probably already calculated a solution regarding the eccentricities of Mars’ orbit while he was out making purchases. He felt lighter knowing he’d soon hold Jemma in his arms again. Being in her orbit was his greatest pleasure. Jemma burned brighter than any star.


End file.
